| Kiss me on the mouth sweet gal
|
| As if we was fixing to die
|
| And I’ll follow you down
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| Till the Mississippi runs dry
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| There’s a room down at the train yard
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| The wall is gunmetal gray
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| The door ain’t never locked
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| Come sun down, let’s slip away
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| I’ll fetch us a blanket
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| You brink a box of crackerjacks
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| We’ll make a pallet on the floor
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| And lay a penny on the railroad tracks
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| When the train comes flying past
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| The walls shake and the floorboard squeaks
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| You be sitting on top of the world girl
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| Like the Mississippi Sheiks
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| Now if somebody ever asks you
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| If you got any
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| You just smile and lick your lips
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| And show em that old flat penny |